


The Art of Self Defense

by kerisempai



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-18 08:04:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3562331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerisempai/pseuds/kerisempai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Worried for Angie's safety, Peggy decides some lessons in self defense are in order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Angie Martinelli was no stranger to sleepless nights. The problem, as much as she could figure, was that her brain simply refused to stop thinking. So, while she might lay in bed, body as relaxed as could be, sleep refused to come for her. Angie had learned that a nice cup of tea, with a generous sip of whiskey, made a nice alternative to staring at the ceiling. The tea cup camouflage had worked well at the Griffith. However, the days of hiding said whiskey in the drawer of her unmentionables were now over.

Instead, Angie stood before a beautifully carved liquor cabinet and inspected the various single malt, Kentucky, and blended options.

“I’ll give this to Mr. Fancy, he knows how to stock a bar.”

She spied a familiar shaped bottle off to one side. While Peggy might prefer the fancy scotches with unpronounceable names, Angie was an American girl when it came to her whiskey. She snagged the bottle of Old Crow and headed back to the kitchen where the tea was steeping.

Edwin Jarvis - she was well aware of his name - had been downright amazing over the two months she and Peggy had been living in the apartment. Not that she’d ever tell him that. The housekeeper and cook, Mrs. Wallace, had simply appeared on their third day, along with a closet full of new clothes. Angie wasn't dumb. She knew that Howard Stark’s money was backing her new lavish lifestyle. But she was smart enough to also recognize Jarvis’s hand in the details. Not that she’d ever thank him. Angie and Jarvis had a particular kind of relationship. One that involved lots of stoicism and frowns on his part, and sarcastic teasing on hers.

Angie sipped her tea. She hadn't bothered to turn on the main lights of the kitchen, just a small pendant near the oven where she’d put the kettle on. She found the semi darkness soothing, and frankly hadn't wanted to possibly disturb Peggy, even though both their bedrooms were on the other side of the apartment. The East Wing, as she jokingly referred to it. The Lord knew Peggy barely got enough sleep as it was. Angie worried.

When Peggy had first explained the whole “Agent” thing, Angie hadn't really been that surprised. Peggy was tough as nails. Anyone with eyes could see that. She’d had no problem picturing Peggy socking it to Nazis during the war. It didn't seem like what she did now was all that different, just more incognito. Every now and again, Peggy would sport a shiner over breakfast, and though it made Angie want to break something, or someone, she kept that to herself.

The creak of the floorboard from outside the back door brought Angie out of her thoughts. She frowned. The only person who used the kitchen entrance was Mrs. Wallace, and though the woman arrived at an ungodly hour, 3 am was a bit early even for the stalwart housekeeper.

Angie continued to stare at the door. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears as she listened intently. The sound of metal in the lock had her out of her chair in an instant. Peggy had always said that they were safe in the apartment, but it would take more than a few months for Angie to forget the sight and sound of men busting down Peggy’s door at the Griffith. Not to mention the fact that she’d been living down the hall from a Russian assassin. An assassin who was still running around free somewhere.

It was the thought of Dottie that had Angie reaching for the heavy rolling pin that Mrs. Wallace used to beat down dough and roll out the bread. She just had enough time to tuck herself into the blind spot behind the door when the knob turned. Angie’s eyes still hadn't adjusted from the dim light by the table to the near complete darkness by the door, but when she made out a figure coming through the opening she didn't hesitate. The rolling pin came down with all the force Angie could muster.

What should have been a nice firm crack to the back of the head ended in a slightly meandering graze. Before Angie could draw back for another swing, a sharp elbow landed in her rib-cage, causing her to lose both her breath and her grip. The rolling pin skittered across the floor, leaving Angie weaponless. But not defenseless. With a lingering thought to her pointiest heels, Angie kicked out with a bare foot. Once. Twice. And on the third try met the fleshy back of a knee.

The half second of success brought a grim smile to Angie’s face. Unfortunately she was on the flat of her back before she had time to really celebrate. Her assailant had boney knees pinning her hips and a firm grip on her wrists much too quickly for Angie to wriggle free. Angie took a deep breath, preparing to luge up, when the scent of bergamot and rose reached her nose.

“English?”

The body above her froze. Then heaved a great sigh. Finally, a forehead came to rest against Angie’s sternum. Neither women moved, just continued to lay panting on the floor of the kitchen.

“What on earth did you hit me with?” Peggy’s voice was somewhat muffled.

Angie slipped her wrists free from Peggy’s now relaxed grip and brought them around the other woman in a loose embrace. “Rolling pin,” Angie said wincing. “I’m really sorry Peg. I thought you were…” She paused. Thoughts of Dottie Underwood seemed ridiculous with Peggy lying here. On top of her. Peggy’s face buried in Angie’s bosom.

“Let’s get you up,” Angie said quickly, hoping Peggy wouldn't notice the squeak in her voice. “Take a look at that bump.” She gently eased out from under Peggy and helped her to her feet.

Both women straightened with a groan.

“They teach you that flippy thing in the army?” Angie asked, rubbing a hand against her lower back.

“Among other things.”

“Mhmp. Might have to get you to show me sometime.” Angie turned on the overhead light and directed Peggy into a chair. She bustled around the large space, picking up the rolling pin, grabbing a second tea cup, opening the icebox, before closing and firming locking the back door.

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Peggy said with a tilt of her head once Angie had poured her tea and set it on the table.

Angie didn't respond. Standing behind Peggy, she moved the other woman’s hair to the side, relieved that there was no blood. Gently, she placed the towel full of ice against the slightly raised area. “Give me your hand, English.” Once she was sure Peggy would continue holding the ice in place, Angie returned to her seat to drink her now lukewarm tea.

“You’re not going to make me do those one arm push ups,” Angie declared.

“Scout’s honor,” Peggy promised.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cliches ahead. It's bigger than me.

Peggy watched with a dispassionate gaze as Angie picked herself off the floor for the fifth time.

She’d designated one of the extra bedrooms “for training purposes,” and had arranged for the furniture to be stored. The space, with its southern facing windows and wood floor, provided more than enough room for their lessons.

The thought did occur to Peggy that perhaps she might ask Mr. Jarvis to requisition some mats as well. Angie’s ascent speed seemed to correspond with the number of times she’d met the floor.

“Again.”

Angie grimaced, but after wiping the sweat from her face with her sleeve, took a ready position once again.

Peggy wanted to smile. Wanted to hug Angie and tell her how proud she was. How Angie’s stubbornness and willingness to get back up, even if it was only to get knocked down again, made her think of… Peggy swallowed, the similarity startling her. Angie wasn't Steve, and comparing the two wasn't fair to either of them.

Peggy shook off her thoughts. Smiles and hugs didn't make a better fighter, and Steve’s ghost had better places to haunt than this apartment.

Angie came at Peggy the same way that she had the first five times – fists up, ready to take a swing – the way that Peggy had taught her. Peggy threw some light punches, more to distract than inflict damage. Angie succeeded in blocking the hits, but failed to land any of her own.

“You are wasting energy and time,” Peggy lectured. “The goal of this exercise is to surprise. To inflict as much damage as possible. To incapacitate in order to get away.”

“I heard you the first ten times English,” Angie said through clenched teeth, squaring her feet and waiting for Peggy to throw another punch.

“Yes, well, you've failed to comprehend thus far,” Peggy returned. She moved in closer to Angie and prepared to launch another set of jabs. At the last minute however, Angie dropped her hands and lunged forward, ramming her shoulder into Peggy’s midsection. The impact drove both women into the floor.

Peggy felt the breath leave her all at once, and for a moment was perfectly still. Angie scrambled up onto her knees, straddling Peggy’s hips and smiling down at the prone women.

“How’s that for comprehension?”

Peggy was unable to stop herself from returning the smile.

“Being on top is fun,” Angie declared, hands on hips.

A raised eyebrow was the only warning Peggy gave before hooking her legs over Angie’s shoulders and flipping the other woman on to her back. She allowed her full body weight to keep Angie pinned to the floor. “Indeed. It’s always been my preference.”

Angie’s gasp of surprise was followed closely by a flush that started at her neck and spread in every direction. “Uh, yeah Peg. I can see that.”

Peggy almost laughed at Angie’s stammered comment, before the intimacy of their position struck her. Peggy’s hips were situated quite perfectly between Angie’s, their breasts pressed together, faces close. Angie’s eyes closed as she took a deep breath, and Peggy found herself wanting to squirm impossibly closer.

She watched as Angie’s pulse continued to beat frantically under that flushed skin. Longer than she intended to. Angie’s hands tightened on her shoulders, catching her attention.

“Are you going to make me wriggle loose, or can we just get off the floor?”

“Oh,” Peggy said quickly. “No. No. We’re done for today.” She hastily removed herself from on top of Angie, and offered the other woman a hand up.

“I’m just going to go, um freshen up then.” Angie didn't meet Peggy’s eyes as she made her way out of the room.

“That last move at the end was really very good,” Peggy called after her.

“Thanks.”

Peggy continued to look at the now empty doorway, gnawing on her bottom lip. Things with Angie could get very uncomfortable very quickly. She would have to exert a little more control of her thoughts and her body. Perhaps establish some distance between herself and Angie. Peggy let out a decisive sigh. It really was for the best.

The next hour saw Peggy pushing herself through a bruising physical workout. Despite the fact that she was very proud of Angie’s ability to surprise and upend her, it shouldn't have been quite that easy for the novice. By the time she walked back out of the room, Peggy felt as if her arms were slabs of stone. All she wanted was a nice hot soak, and perhaps a cup of earl grey. And bed. She was certain sleep would come easy this night.

The last thing she wanted was to see a stunningly beautiful Angie, hair curled, lips painted, and body poured into a light blue silk dress that perfectly matched her eyes.

“Don’t wait up,” Angie said as she tucked her key into a matching clutch before snapping it closed.

“Ah…” The door closed behind her before Peggy could finish her sentence. “I won’t,” she said to no one.

Peggy continued down the hall to her bedroom. She whipped the sweat-soaked shirt from her body, followed closely by pants and underthings, before grabbing the dressing gown from the back of the door with rather more force than she meant to. The half dozen steps to the bath resonated throughout the residence. It was only when she finally laid back in what should have been soothing warmth that Peggy allowed herself to admit that she was furious.

Furious that Angie was out dancing. Or drinking. Or flirting. With someone who wasn’t Peggy.

“Bloody hell.”


	3. Chapter 3

“From the gentleman in the corner.”

Angie turned in her seat to watch the waitress place a fresh drink on the table, before sweeping the empty glass away with her other hand. “Yeah?” she questioned.

“Blue tie.” The waitress gave a shrug before moving off to deliver drinks to another table.

Angie picked up the drink and turned to look at the sender. Medium height, dark hair, decent suit. She could do worse. He raised his glass and winked at her, and she returned his salute, but returned her attention back to the dance floor a moment later.

Three Deuces wasn't the swankiest joint Angie had ever been in, but it wasn't a dive either. Smokey, dark, medium sized dance floor. The drinks were strong and the band was pretty good. All in all she’d probably come back. 52nd wasn't that far from the apartment, only a ten minute cab ride at this time of night. It was on the outskirts of the theater district, so the neighborhood was plenty safe. Although with the mood that Angie found herself in, she’d almost welcome a little danger.

She was… restless. Keyed up. And generally just felt like raising a little hell. All reasons why she’d decided that the apartment, and its beautiful inhabitant, should be avoided at all costs. She shifted on the bar stool just thinking about the way Peggy had laid on top of her. No, if she’d stayed in tonight something might have happened. An extra-long glance that lead to a light touch, or more. History had shown her that no matter what kind of “connection” Angie thought she shared with another girl, it was never what it seemed. Girls liked fellas, not other girls. And if Angie didn't particularly like any men, well, she was an actress after all.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing watching from the sidelines?”

Angie rolled her eyes and took a large swig of her drink, but pasted an overly friendly smile on her face when she turned to the man next to her table. “That a bonafide offer? Or did you just come over to tease me?”

He smiled and held out a hand. “Honey, I’d sure like a dance.”

The opening notes of "Sentimental Journey" sounded as Angie put her hand in his. She was hoping for a more upbeat song, but those were the breaks. “Blue tie” wasn't a bad dancer. He didn't step on her feet, and so far hadn't gotten too handsy.

But his aftershave made her nose itch. And as he lead her around the dance floor, it felt heavy, forced, like he didn't trust her to know the steps. Plus he breathed too loud. Angie couldn't help wondering what it would be like to dance with Peggy. The feel of Peggy’s curves tucked up against her own, as the slightly taller woman glided them across the floor. Angie smiled despite herself.

The song ended, and Angie nodded at her partner’s questioning eyebrow when a faster beat sounded. They danced three more, before she called a halt and allowed him to lead her back to her table. The hand he put on the small of her back began to drift decidedly south, so she quickly settled back into her seat. Unfortunately, Mr. “Blue tie” took that as an invitation to lean down and try to kiss her. She managed to turn her head enough so that his lips landed against her cheek.

“Don’t wander off,” he directed with a smile. “I’m going to hit the head. Back in a flash.”

Angie watched him walk away. Perhaps she should head out before he got back. She sighed. This was her problem. Every time she met an appropriate man, one she should be interested in, her first reaction was to figure out how to escape. She had to get better at this. So, instead of making a bee line for the door, she picked her drink back up and waited for his return.

And waited.

Fifteen minutes later she figured out he wasn't coming back. Annoyed and relieved, Angie left a generous tip on the table, picked up her clutch, and decided to call it a night. The doorman raised his hand to hail her a cab, but she waved him off. Her emotions still felt a little too tight. Walking home might just clear her head, or at least tire her out a bit.

Four blocks in, she heard footsteps behind her. A glance behind only showed shadows, and Angie wished that she’d kept to 3rd instead of the shorter way up 5th. Her heart started beating faster until the sound of Peggy’s voice sounded in her head. Surprise. Incapacitate. Get away.

Angie slowed her steps and moved into a darker area of the sidewalk. If someone was really following her, she was going to make herself as unseen a target as possible. She saw an alley half a block up. She slowed her steps even more, which also quieted the sound of her heels on the pavement. She slipped around the corner of the alley almost silently.

She still heard the footsteps. Louder and faster than a moment ago. Angie crouched and brought her fists up. Either they were going to pass her right by, or they were going to come flying into the alley. Whichever happened, she would be ready.

The footsteps faltered, quieted to nothing. Angie saw a flash of movement around the brick corner, and before she had a chance to doubt herself, she swung her fist in a hay-maker that meant business.

Peggy hadn't really prepared Angie for the amount of pain a fist hitting the solid bone of another person’s skull produces. “Son of a gun,” she gritted out, but brought her hands right back up into position and swung again. This time however, her arm was caught in an iron grip. When she tried to hit her attacker with a left, she found that arm restrained as well. Angie kicked out, but found herself spun around and pinned against the rough brick wall.

“We really do need to stop meeting like this,” a harsh voice said in her ear.

Instead of relieving her, the sound of Peggy’s voice made her struggle harder. “What do you expect English? Skulking around in the dark the way you do. Puts a girl on edge.” She kicked at Peggy’s legs again.

A dark chuckle sounded right before Peggy shifted her grip on Angie’s arms, trapping them against the wall above her head, and kicking the smaller woman’s legs apart. “If I’d been a man you’d be in serious trouble right now.”

If she’d been a man, Angie thought, she wouldn't feel quite this… uncomfortable. Like she was torn between wanting to flip Peggy around and pin her to the wall, and wanting to rub up against her like a cat. “What kind of trouble?” she couldn't help but ask.

Peggy was silent, but Angie felt the hand pinning her left wrist to the wall drop away. Gentle fingers stroked her face before sliding into her hair. Peggy hand tightened her grip, pulling her head back, making Angie’s neck arch, while Peggy’s hips settled themselves tighter against Angie.

Angie’s breath caught and held. She felt the whisper of Peggy’s cheek as she scented along Angie’s exposed neck. When Peggy raised her face level again, she couldn't make out the expression.

“Tell me to stop,” Peggy’s voice was quiet.

“No.”

Despite the grip Peggy still had on her hair, Angie lunged forward, connecting their lips. Reveling in the moan that Peggy released, and the strong arms that pulled her closer.


	4. Chapter 4

Earlier…

Peggy knew that her spy craft was solid. She’d tracked men and women through Europe, Asia, Russia, and America, hidden in plain sight, and tricked and flirted her way through many a tough situation. Ascertaining Angie’s location had taken a softly spoken question to the doorman of their building. She hadn't even had to bribe him. He’d even hailed a taxi and opened the door for her.

The ease of it served to further annoy Peggy.

Throughout the taxi ride Peggy called herself two kinds of an idiot. One, other than pure and simple jealousy, she had absolutely no reason to follow Angie. It wasn't as if she was in danger. Angie had been a resident of New York far longer than Peggy herself. Two, she had no idea what she’d even say to Angie once she found her.

'I know things are tense between us, but it’s only because I want to shag you into next week.' It didn't exactly instill Peggy with confidence of gaining Angie’s understanding. No matter how true it was.

While she’d always found Angie unavoidably attractive, it was only recently that she’d struggled not to act on that attraction. A small part of Peggy’s mind argued that perhaps Angie wouldn't be all that horrified should Peggy’s control slip. She made a living at reading people. At extracting information they didn't want known. It wasn't such a stretch to see Angie welcoming Peggy’s attention.

But unfortunately, Angie had not made such intentions known, and in all honesty, put quite a bit of distance between them earlier.

She literally ran away, Peggy chastised herself.

Before she could deride her decision further, the taxi was pulling to a stop. Peggy hadn't dressed for a night out, opting for navy slacks and a checkered blazer, and as such had directed the driver to the nearest cross street. She spied the back entrance to the Three Deuces before the taxi’s taillights had faded.

It was a matter of moments before Peggy was tucked into a dark alcove near the gentlemen’s toilet, with a clear view of both the bar and the dance floor. She would have congratulated herself on her stealth if it hadn't involved sneaking past the keen observation of a waitress and two busboys.

The flash of blue across the room immediately drew her eyes. Even if she’d never seen it before, Peggy had always suspected that Angie would be a talented dancer. Lessons, she knew were something the other woman had invested in, but seeing Angie move across the floor was a pleasure. She floated. Even in the complicated steps of the jitterbug, Angie moved with a casual grace.

“I've been far too easy on her,” Peggy muttered, concocting different fighting scenarios that would take advantage of Angie’s natural movement. More flow and subtlety than Peggy’s own ‘hit as hard as you can as often as you can until they stop moving’ style.

The song came to an end. Peggy watched Angie put a hand up, indicating the need for a break. Her face was flushed and a bit dewy. She gave little attention to the man Angie had been dancing with. He was not threat, to Angie’s safety or Peggy’s piece of mind.

At least until he leaned down into Angie as she sat. From her position, Peggy could only see the back of Angie’s head, but it was enough to distinguish that the man had the gall to take liberties. The only thing that kept Peggy in her hiding spot was seeing Angie turn her face to the side with a look of discomfort, which she quickly masked before turning back.

He said something that Peggy couldn't make out, but when he set himself of a path directly toward her, Peggy could barely contain her glee. A quick roll of her neck and she was moving, out of the alcove and into hallway, decidedly in his way.

He started when she appeared, but stepped to the side, gesturing for her to proceed. “After you.”

“Thank you so much,” Peggy smiled at him. “Oh dear me, do watch out!”

He turned to where Peggy was looking over his shoulder. “For what?”

Her left jab caught him in the jaw, before her right uppercut snapped his head back. He slumped to the floor in a heap.

“For the woman about to thrash you,” Peggy said, straightening her jacket. She should probably feel guilty. The man really hadn't done anything to deserve the headache he would surely awake with. Should, but didn't.

It took her a bit of time to maneuver him into the alcove. He wasn't that big, but heavier than she’d expected. Luck was on her side though, and no one passed whilst she struggled with his ungainly form. Luckier still, Angie hadn't come looking for her erstwhile suitor. She waited - not so patiently Peggy noticed - at her table.

Angie fished into her purse and pulled out money, and Peggy sighed in relief. Angie was surely headed home. This evening of bad decisions was finally coming to an end. One more hard look towards the hallway, which had Peggy edging slightly back into the darkness, and Angie was making her exit. Peggy made her own seconds later.

Once outside, she hustled around the corner, expecting to see Angie disappearing into a taxi. Instead she gnashed her teeth as the other woman waived the doorman off and proceeded on foot. “Damn it all,” Peggy cursed. “How is she not tired?” She was definitely feeling the effects of a long exhausting day. Still, Peggy followed without missing a step.

It was a perfectly normal late night walk for several blocks until inexplicably Angie disappeared from Peggy’s sight. One minute she’d be a block ahead, walking steadily if a bit absentmindedly, then she was simply gone. No footsteps. No shadow.

Peggy panicked.

Without thought to anything other than Angie’s possible peril, Peggy surged forward, heel clicking noisily on the pavement. She saw the alley a second before she passed it, and slid to a stop. She didn't like this one bit. It felt like an ambush, but she rounded the corner anyway, listening intently for sounds of a struggle.

The blow to her cheekbone made her see stars. Her training had her crouched and ready to deliver a returning shot. She just managed to pull her swing at the muttered “Son of a gun” that emanated from the shadowy figure before her. Peggy just barely avoided letting loose with her own curse. How many times could this possibly happen?

Angie’s second swing wasn't nearly as good as her first. Peggy caught it easily. The next attempt flailed uselessly against her shoulder until Peggy snatched that arm as well. As she expected, Angie tried to kick her next, but Peggy simply used the momentum to push Angie into the wall and hold her there.

“We really do need to stop meeting like this.” Her voice was harsher than she’d meant to be, but Peggy was a little angry, a little worked up, and a little annoyed. The last thing she expected was renewed struggle on Angie’s part.

“What do you expect English? Skulking around in the dark the way you do. Puts a girl on edge.”

The anger in Angie’s voice only made Peggy’s own temper flare. Angie had no idea what could happen to her in such a situation. She imagined if it had been the man from the nightclub, or Thompson, or even Howard who’d found Angie in a dark alley. The things they might have done. The things, if Peggy was completely honest, she wanted to do. She was no better.

For the third time in a week, she had the soft curves of Angie Martinelli pressed against her. Her heart thumped with the closeness. It would be so very easy to lean forward and taste those lips. She laughed. Tempted though she was, she just couldn't do it.

Angie kick out again, and almost made contact with Peggy shin. She shifted her grip, pulling Angie’s hands above her head where she’d have less leverage. Frustration overran Peggy’s senses.

“If I’d been a man you’d be in serious trouble right now.”

Angie shifted beneath her, rubbing up against Peggy for the briefest of moments. “What kind of trouble?”

Peggy stood stunned. Angie couldn't possibly be asking… It was too much.

Peggy let her hand slide down Angie’s arm, loving the feel of silk over warm skin. She stroked the softness of a flushed cheek before cupping the back of Angie’s head in a firm hand. Just a little tug made Angie’s head drop back. She didn't mean to lean down into the crook of her neck, but as she rubbed her cheek against it and inhaled Angie’s scent she couldn't regret it. Especially when Angie’s breath hitched.

Peggy raised her head. There was only one way she was going to be able to pull away. She no longer had the power to do it on her own.

“Tell me to stop.”

“No,” Angie said.

Peggy was unprepared, both for the answer, and for the lips that captured hers a moment later.


	5. Chapter 5

Angie had never lost herself completely in another person. The boys who’d snuck a kiss from her had always been shoved away after a moment or two. The girls - well really it had only been the one girl – she’d been far too worried that someone would walk in to her bedroom at any moment. Kissing Peggy however, flooded Angie’s senses like nothing else she’d ever known. She couldn't have said where they were, or even how long they’d been pressed together. All that Angie knew was that Peggy was kissing her and she didn't ever want the other woman to stop.

Her mouth slanted across Angie’s, nipping and caressing, and making Angie feel like she might just melt into a puddle. Peggy pulled back slightly, repositioning her lips against Angie’s neck and her hands to Angie’s hips. She squeezed and Angie groaned, the motion bringing her lower body into more intimate contact with Peggy’s.

Angie’s head dropped back against the wall and it was only then that she realized her hands were still above her head. She remedied that quickly. The feel of Peggy’s silky hair as she buried her fingers in it was better than Angie had imagined. She cradled Peggy’s head as the woman made steady progress down to Angie’s collarbone, lips and teeth and tongue leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“Peggy. Peggy. Peggy.” It was the only word that seemed to make any sense to Angie, so she just repeated it over and over again. A prayer, a mantra, a plea; she wasn't sure.

Peggy raised her head and looked Angie straight in the eye. There was still worry, but much more prominent in Peggy’s gaze was desire. The Englishwoman’s chest heaved, her lips were swollen, and her hair was mussed from Angie’s grip. She was the most beautiful thing Angie had ever seen.

“Kiss me again English,” Angie ordered, impressed with her own cheek.

It earned her a raised eyebrow, but then Peggy’s lips were on her again, and her mouth was parting under Peggy’s insistent tongue.

Angie’s hands ran up and down Peggy’s arms, around her shoulders, to the small of her back. She couldn't seem to draw her close enough. A hairpin couldn't squeeze between them, but it still wasn't enough for Angie. Peggy instinctively seemed to sense Angie’s desire, and shifted her hips, forcing Angie to tilt her own hips back. It felt incredibly natural to hitch her leg up and around Peggy, locking them together and gaining much firmer contact.

Peggy was quite pleased by this new position as well if her moan was anything to go by. Fingers slid over her thigh, following the curve around to the back of her knee. Angie could feel the warmth through the thin material of her dress, but was unprepared for the electric heat of them when they slipped under and ghosted along the straps of her garters.

A callused hand which had fired guns and thrown punches moved with gentle surety up her leg until it cupped Angie’s bottom. Peggy’s hand lingered there, kneading and massaging, before moving back to a soft thigh. It made the trip several times.

This gave Angie the courage to move her hands to the buttons of Peggy’s jacket. She only managed to get two undone. Peggy must have gotten dressed in a hurry. Instead of the usual collared blouse, Peggy was only wearing a wisp of a camisole underneath. The smooth skin revealed proved too much of a distraction. Angie ran her knuckles over the deep “v” of Peggy’s cleavage and received a firm squeeze to her ass in return. Which was nothing compared to what happened when she moved her hand under the open jacket and palmed Peggy’s left breast.

Peggy shuttered and arched into the touch. She also stopped kissing Angie, instead resting their foreheads together and taking several deep breaths. Peggy’s hand had widened it circuit and was currently resting about an inch away from the edge of Angie’s panties.

She continued to massage Peggy breast, feeling the nipple harden against her palm. Peggy’s hand moved a tiny bit closer.

“We have to stop,” Peggy whispered.

Angie pinched Peggy’s nipple lightly and was rewarded with a gasp. Peggy’s hand slid under the lace edge and halted.

“Why?” Angie asked. Stopping seemed like the last thing either of them wanted.

“Because the last place I pictured us doing this was in some back alley,” Peggy answered. She began to withdraw her hand, but Angie reached down with a firm grip on her wrist, stopping Peggy’s movement. Looking squarely into Peggy’s eyes, she tightened her grip and pulled Peggy’s hand forward. Peggy resisted for several heartbeats and Angie rocked her hips just enough to graze Peggy’s fingertips over her wetness.

Both women moaned at the contact.

“You've thought about this?” Angie questioned. “In your big lonely bed?”

“Ye… yes,” Peggy stuttered.

“Then why don’t you take me back there and make both our dreams come true.” Angie moved against Peggy’s fingers one last time before pulling them out from under her skirt and dropping her leg back to the ground.

Peggy just looked at her, opened mouthed.

“Well come on English, I’m waiting.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this. You'll notice I increased the rating.

Peggy did not need to be told a second time. She quickly buttoned her jacket, grasped Angie’s hand, and pulled the other woman along. It was a matter of two blocks before Peggy was able to hail a taxi, and then they were being deposited neatly in front of the apartment. If the doorman frowned at the lateness of the hour, Peggy didn't notice. Surely it wouldn't be the first time she’d arrived home at such a time.

Peggy was both proud and surprised to find her hands were steady as she unlocked the door. Then it was closing behind them, and Peggy realized that neither she nor Angie had uttered a word to each other since leaving the alley. The snick of the lock as Angie shot the bolt home had Peggy closing her eyes and trying to breathe slow and even.

She counted to ten. Angie had been clear. She wanted Peggy, and lord knew Peggy wanted her as well. She didn’t know why she was hesitating. Or maybe she did. Once she turned around, once she kissed Angie again, took her to bed; things would be totally different, much more complicated.

“How much longer Peg?” Angie said.

Peggy turned and looked at her. Angie leaned back against the locked door, arms crossed.

“I’m sorry?” Peggy didn't understand the question.

“How long,” Angie pushed off the door, “are you going to stand there weighing what you want,” she sauntered into Peggy’s space, “and what I want,” she ran a finger down Peggy’s arm, “against what you think you should do?”

Peggy allowed Angie to get perhaps two steps away from her before she reached out and grabbed her by the arm. She pulled Angie to her and crushed their lips together. No amount of counting was going to calm Peggy enough to not want Angie.

It was extremely easy to lean down and lift Angie up into her arms by way of her shapely behind. The legs that immediately wrapped around her waist had Peggy smiling into the kiss. She took a few steps down the hall, Angie’s weight so slight than Peggy was certain she could carry the woman to bed, if she could concentrate enough to find the destination.

Peggy raised her head enough to see over Angie’s shoulder, determined to make her way the 100 yards or so to room. It might have been a smoother trip if Angie hadn't taken the opportunity to trail lips down Peggy’s neck. One near stumble, thanks to Angie’s teeth on Peggy’s earlobe, and a few bumped walls later, Peggy was kicking her bedroom door shut and reaching for the zipper that ran down the back of Angie’s dress.

Angie’s legs released their firm grip from around Peggy and dropped to the floor. Peggy stepped back and brought her hands to Angie’s shoulders. The slightest of movements and the blue silk was sliding down Angie’s arms and pooling at her feet.

While she’d imagined it countless times, seeing Angie standing before her in nothing more than her unmentionables was enough to keep Peggy from moving forward. In fact, she found herself taking a step farther back simply to appreciate the beauty before her. Angie’s lingerie was ivory and seemed to glow against her creamy skin. Her brassiere was simple, not unlike many of the ones Peggy owned herself, if a bit smaller. Peggy’s eyes trailed down to a trim waist and the skin revealed between top and bottom.

Angie’s garter belt sat over short length panties, straps practically begging Peggy to kneel and undo them. Before she did so however, Peggy quickly unbuttoned her jacket and dropped it to the floor. She very much liked the way Angie’s blue eyes widened in response. Peggy moved to the clasp on her pants. With a flick of her fingers they fell to the ground as well. She kicked them away and stepped out of her low heeled shoes.

“Jeeze Peg,” Angie panted reaching out for her.

Peggy’s camisole was discarded as she took the two steps back to Angie. The feel of their bodies contacting was glorious, but the slight barrier of under garments was still too much. She walked Angie further into the room, right up to the edge of her high four-poster bed. Her fingers made quick work of the hooks holding Angie’s bra in place. Peggy guided the straps down Angie’s arms. She reached out and cupped Angie’s delicate breasts in her hands, her touch light and fleeting. She'd get back to them , but for now she had an agenda that involved divesting her soon to be lover of every last scrap of clothing.

The floorboards were warm under her bare knees as Peggy settled her hands on Angie’s hips. She wound her way to the back of Angie’s thighs, unfastening the clips holding nylons in place. One last reach and she had the belt off. Peggy allowed her hands to run over baby soft skin as she rolled one down then the other. Glancing up, Peggy met Angie’s eyes, noticed that Angie was biting her bottom lip. Peggy offered her hand, helping Angie balance as she stepped clear of dress, hose, and shoes.

All that remained were the lace edged panties. Peggy ran her hands up Angie’s thighs, noting the tremble of the other woman’s legs. At the last minute she shifted her hands to the back of Angie’s legs, sliding under the ivory silk and scrapping crimson nails across the globes of Angie’s ass. Hands landed on Peggy’s shoulders, grasping. She spared one last glace up at Angie’s desire filled visage before moving forward to bury her face into Angie’s womanhood.

A surprised gasp turned into a long moan. She’d felt Angie’s desire in the alley, but it hadn't prepared her for the taste and scent of it. Peggy nuzzled into Angie’s warmth, intoxicated. The hands on her shoulders flexed and tightened. Teasingly, Peggy flicked her tongue against Angie, outline an area of silk that was already soaked through. She tried a longer firmer stroke and Angie’s hands moved from her shoulders to the back of her head. Hips canted forward, and as much as Peggy was enjoying herself, she pulled her head away from Angie.

Peggy heard a sound of disappointment from above, but ignored it for the moment as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of Angie's panties and pulled them down her legs. Angie helpfully hopped from one foot to the other, facilitating the final removal. Peggy, still on her knees, blew lightly against the downy chestnut hair before her.

“Oh God Peggy. Please.” Angie tightened her grip in Peggy’s hair.

Peggy moved forward, simultaneously pulling Angie’s right leg over her shoulder and yanking Angie toward her. There was nothing teasing about her tongue this time. Broad flat strokes painted Angie from top to bottom, setting a rhythm that had her naked body clenching and shaking in turn. Peggy indulged herself, learning the hills and valleys of Angie's body, letting the sound of Angie's whimpers and groans guide her. All the while she kept her rhythm, winding Angie up like a fine timepiece. On the up sweep she began to linger on Angie’s bundle of nerves. The shaking grew stronger. Peggy knew Angie’s leg wouldn't hold her up much longer. She shifted to one knee, planted her foot on the floor and pressed up, taking Angie’s body up with her and easing the other woman onto the mattress.

The change in position didn't seem to faze Angie much, other than to place her other leg over Peggy’s shoulder. Something with which Peggy was extraordinarily pleased. Bracing herself against the side of the bed, she settled in, relishing the taste and feel of the woman beneath her. She very much wanted to use her fingers, to feel Angie’s pleasure from the inside, but she kept both her hands firmly planted on Angie’s hips. They hadn't discussed it, and such a thing in the moment might cause Angie to regret this experience. This did not stop Peggy from sliding her tongue over and around Angie’s entrance. She spent several heartbeats there before moving back up and pulling the hard button of Angie’s pleasure into her mouth. A light suction coupled with firm licks had Angie arching up of the bed. Only Peggy’s grip kept them in contact.

Peggy used her right arm to wrap around Angie more securely, pinning both her hips with a strong forearm. Her left stretched up to fondle a pert breast.

“Oh God,” Angie said again.

Peggy pinched a nipple and sucked just a little harder.

Angie’s legs went from shaking to full on tremors.

“Jesus. Mary. Joseph. Pegggggy.”

Angie’s hips shot up and she froze, hands twisted in Peggy’s hair, legs rigid. Peggy could feel the pulses under her tongue, and with one last swipe eased her mouth away from Angie’s center and laid her cheek on a soft thigh.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the incredible interest in this story. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

Angie opened her eyes. She didn't remember closing them, but at some point she must have. She had made a conscious effort to keep them open, the sight of Peggy’s head between her thighs had been too tempting a sight to turn away from. The small wall sconce by the door, which Peggy habitually left on, had proved to be perfect lighting for her to observe Peggy’s skills.

Just the thought of it had her squirming as she stared up at the ceiling of Peggy’s bedroom. The movement made her realize that a firm leg was hitched over her own.

Angie shifted her head to the side and found the bed’s other occupant watching her. A small smile graced Peggy’s lips as she lay on her side, arm extended and fingers curling and uncurling around a lock of Angie’s hair.

“Hiya English,” Angie spoke low, rolling over to face Peggy. She couldn't contain the smile that spread across her face.

“Hi,” Peggy said, equally quiet, smiling back. She sighed and stretched, letting go of Angie’s hair and reaching her arms over her head and arching her back.

This movement threw Peggy’s amble bosom in to sharp relief and Angie had to swallow hard past the surge of desire that lit back up. It also made Angie realize that while she was laying across the satin bedspread naked as the day she was born, Peggy was still wearing her bra and panties.

“Um, Pegs, you’re seeming a bit overdressed for this particular occasion.” Angie’s hand inched its way closer to the white encased globes.

“Mmm?” Peggy said noncommittally, arching again, but turning to meet Angie’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.” The backs of Angie’s knuckles grazed the side of Peggy’s breast.

“Indeed,” Peggy smiled and flipped on her other side before lightly hopping from the bed.

“Peggy?” Angie sat up, worry punching her in the gut.

Peggy walked around the bed to Angie’s side, immediately cupping her cheek and kissing her softly. “I just thought you might want a better view,” she said, half confident, half shy.

Angie’s relief was instantaneous. “By all means English, feel free to give me a show.”

Peggy’s smirk was the stuff of fantasy.

I am such a goner, Angie thought to herself. It was the last coherent thought she had for a while.

Angie watched as Peggy reached behind and unclasped the hooks holding her bra together. Ever so slowly she let the straps fall down her arms. Angie’s teeth were clenched on her bottom lip, tracking the decent as more and more of the tops of Peggy’s breasts came into view. At the last minute Peggy turned, giving Angie a view of her sleek back, and letting the bra fall from her arms.

Angie opened her mouth to protest, but the look that Peggy gave her from over her shoulder stopped her. There was a lot of promise in those brown eyes.

Strong fingers slide beneath the band of Peggy’s panties, easing the material over hips and smooth thighs, revealing the lush roundness of the most perfect behind that Angie had ever seen. Not that she’d seen a lot, but she couldn't imagine one more perfect than Peggy’s. Gravity assisted once Peggy had eased the silk past her knees. With a flick of her red polished toe, Peggy stood totally nude.

Then she turned, and Angie forgot how to breathe.

Angie dropped her gaze to Peggy’s toes, following them up to the slim calves that she’d always admired. Strong thighs met wide hips, and Angie felt her mouth water just thinking about exploring that piece of real estate with lips and teeth. Peggy’s hair was a neatly trimmed triangle, and Angie made a mental note to offer her assistance the next time Peggy needed to complete that chore. An adorable belly button and hourglass waist lead up to Peggy’s breasts, and here Angie’s eyes lingered. It was no secret that Angie loved Peggy’s breasts. The amount of time she’d lost track of while admiring them was in the hours by no. They were so round. Pale pink tipped, and so generous that Angie knew her hands would barely contain them. The thought of their heaviness under her fingers, in her mouth had Angie panting once again.

“See something you like?” Peggy’s voice teased.

Angie managed to tear her eyes away from Peggy’s breasts, just barely. Peggy looked up at her through thick lashes. Angie nodded and scooted back in the bed then raised her arm in a come hither gesture.

Peggy complied, walking slowly to the bed before getting to her hands and knees and crawling across it. Angie knew her mouth was hanging open again, but there wasn't a thing she could do to stop it. The way that Peggy’s breasts swayed as she moved closer was hypnotic.

Angie laid back and Peggy followed, still on all fours, until she hovered directly above her. Angie reached up and stroked Peggy’s face, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

Peggy turned and kissed Angie's Palm then lowered her head to trail kisses across her forehead, nose, cheek, until breathing along her ear, “Touch me, Angie.”

Angie shivered. Her hands skimmed over Peggy’s shoulders and biceps, squeezing the taunt muscles keeping the other woman poised above her. With her right hand she reached out and cupped Peggy’s breast, its weight every bit as wonderful as she’d imagined.

Peggy sighed and pressed into Angie’s hand.

Angie massaged and kneaded while bringing her other hand down to play with a neglected nipple. Peggy gasped loudly and threw her head back. Angie appreciated the unobstructed view down Peggy’s body, and had an idea. She dug her heels into the mattress using the leverage to inch down toward the foot of the bed. At the same time she used her hands to nudge Peggy toward the head. In a matter of seconds she’d accomplished her goal; Peggy’s stiff nipple was now suspended directly above Angie’s waiting mouth.

Angie caressed one breast while she mouthed the other. Peggy continued making noises, from little mews to full groans. This, Angie thought, was how she could easily spend the rest of her life. She brought her teeth into play a little harder than she’d intended, only to discover a new noise from Peggy – a breathy keening cry – that she needed to hear again. She captured the other nipple between her teeth and tugged. Peggy cried again and ground herself down against Angie. The pool of wetness against her stomach made Angie moan and bite harder.

Peggy’s reaction was swift. She reared up, pulling her nipple from Angie’s mouth and balancing once again on her knees. Her hand captured Angie’s where it was now groping air, and yanked it down to the juncture of Peggy’s thighs.

Angie ran her fingers tentatively through the warm wetness as Peggy lowered herself down to rest on her elbows. Angie pulled a nipple back into her mouth as she moved more firmly against Peggy. Two fingers formed a V and ran up and down along Peggy's womanhood before finding her hard clit and squeezing it gently.

Peggy’s hips shot forward. “Inside,” she pleaded. “God Angie, I want you inside me.”

Hearing Peggy say the words had Angie’s eyes practically rolling into the back of her head with pleasure. She complied, pressing two fingers against Peggy’s entrance. Angie had barely entered before Peggy shifted down hard, burying Angie’s fingers inside her.

It took a few tries, but they found a rhythm, Angie pulling back while Peggy shifted up, only to come back together. Angie braced her wrist against her hip to give herself more force as Peggy gasps grew louder.

“Oh Angie,” Peggy whimpered. “More, please. More.”

There were only so many ways to interpret more, so Angie pulled all the way out of Peggy, joined her ring finger to her middle and index and thrust right back in. For the second time, Peggy pulled her upper body up from Angie’s mouth. This time Peggy grasped the headboard and used it to balance as she rode Angie’s hand.

“Oh God. Angie. My beautiful beautiful Angie.”

Angie looked up at Peggy’s face, watching the riot of pleasure displayed across it. She reached up, wanting nothing more than to kiss Peggy. Dark eyes opened at her touch and met Angie’s as she coaxed Peggy’s head back down. Their lips met at the same time that Angie pressed her thumb against Peggy’s pleasure button. She could feel a flutter against her fingers as Peggy’s hips began to lose their rhythm.

Peggy’s tongue was in Angie’s mouth as she thrust once, twice, and on the third time came with a scream that Angie gladly swallowed.

Angie pulled Peggy tight against her as she felt the other woman’s head slump into the curve of her neck and the rest of her go boneless. She pressed a kiss to a sweaty temple, awed by the passion she’d been a witness to.

It was several minutes before Peggy stirred. When she did it was only to roll on her side, just enough to allow Angie’s fingers to slip free, before hitching her leg over Angie’s hip and pulling their bodies back together.

Angie felt kisses trail over the tops of her breasts and smiled. Her hands wound into Peggy’s hair and she hummed happily.

Peggy raised her head and met Angie’s smile.

“You realize you’re never going to be rid of me now, right English?” Angie joked.

“Mmm,” Peggy murmured, kissing Angie’s lips. “Deal.”


End file.
